32. Carried Away
32
Carried Away
Calliste
The king didn’t turn up in the evening, his absence aching in the way she wasn’t willing to admit to herself.
He only needs me to help his son, she reminded herself as she ate the supper Gaiane left her, watching the prince. And I asked him to stay away, didn’t I?
Kalias’ forehead was cool, which she took as a good sign. At least for now, until she could investigate further. She watched him until the first star appeared in the sky.
Whoever was after him—a god or a monster—had to realize he was the future of the kingdom. And they didn’t seem to care.
Anger flared-up inside her as she settled into the armchair, slipping her hand onto her pendant. She cleared her mind to achieve a perfect focus. “Let’s show them, Kalias.”
***
She braced herself for the nauseating fall—except this time, someone carried her. Someone familiar, smelling of green apples.
“Open your eyes, Calliste.” His voice had the same depth as his brother’s, yet instead of a cold midnight tone, it flowed like mulled wine. “You don’t want to miss it.”
They seemed to be floating among the blazing stars, surrounded by pulsating veils of pink and coral mists. As they tore through them, they scattered into rosy, shimmering sparks, dancing around them, their light streaking like stars falling from the sky before it faded away.
Overwhelmed, she looked away from it, focusing on one steady, close image: Hypnos’ face.
From up close, it was a fine, masculine face. A thousand mysteries glinted behind his silver irises, which seemed like endless ice. Wisps of honey-colored hair floated around his moonstone countenance, as his blue wings spread in the air, lighting up with each beat.
“Why are you carrying me?” she asked. “Last time…”
“Last time, I had no idea how my brother would bring you to the Underworld,” he replied. “He’s quite direct, I guess.”
“And you?”
“I am as evidenced,” he replied, batting his long eyelashes at her.
Despite the fear of confronting the phantoms clutching at her throat, she laughed.
“What a lovely sound, Calliste. It’s unfortunate the world hasn’t had the chance to hear it more often,” he remarked, causing her to tense up. He continued after a brief pause, “I hate to remind you, but there’s no need for me to pretend I don’t know about you when I do.”
Her mouth went dry. “What do you know?”
For a moment, his silvery gaze felt like scorching sunlight. “Everything.”
“How?”
“How long has it been since you first consciously summoned me as a novice?”
She closed her eyes briefly before opening them again, feeling weightless in his arms between the realms of mortals and gods. “Must have been a while.”
“A few years, which is just a mere blink of an eye for me. But you intrigued me even as a novice, so I… well, one day I made a trip to the Everlasting Enclave to watch your orb of life.”
Her throat closed up.
“Calliste,” Hypnos spoke gently. “I volunteered to be your guide, not your judge. Doesn’t it feel better to know that I am aware of your past and do not judge you?”
A strange feeling of relief washed over her. “You don’t?”
“Should I?” he asked just as the luminosity around them faded away to reveal the Everlasting Enclave.
She held her breath at the sight of all the shining lights in the depths of the Underworld: an endless, shimmering forest that seemed to expand and breathe. “I never imagined the Underworld could be so beautiful,” she whispered.
“You should expect no less from a realm of resting souls and blossoming dreams,” he remarked as they floated above the Enclave before continuing their flight toward a distant misty horizon. “This is one of the portals to the Roots. Ready?”
She nodded.
***
Once again, they landed in the eerie void.
The ground was covered in a thick layer of ice that seemed to stretch on endlessly, only broken by the shivering, distant stars far below. Having just seen the stars above her and now seeing them below confused her.
“If I keep walking, the tree will appear before me, right?” she asked Hypnos. “Because Erebus is unpredictable?”
“Precisely.”
She paused, lost in thought. “Do you know what happened to the Condemned that I scorched?”
“Not yet. My guess is they may have shed their previous appearance. You could help them transform into something closer to their true selves.”
Her heartbeat hurried a little. “You mean… I didn’t kill them?”
“Of course not. Your powers are healing, not destructive. Only the gods of the Underworld have the power to destroy the Condemned.”
“But that shriek that we heard…”
Hypnos shook his head. “No. Your powers may have trapped them, but they were likely purified due to their degraded state. Hence the scream.”
She glanced up at his moonstone-cut profile, still somewhat in awe of him. “So no matter how I attack them, the worst I can do is heal them?”
“These are the powers your goddess has granted you. You cannot use this energy to kill.”
“Should I keep trying to purify them?”
“Worth a try. I cannot use my power to kill them here, and it’s evident they won’t let us near the tree. But they are being manipulated. So the only way to break the control is to heal them back into their former selves, before they degenerated.”
“You said I can shape my power into anything. So even if it’s used as a weapon, it will still heal instead of kill?”
His silvery eyes glittered like dew as he smiled. “I can’t see any other way it would work.”
Reassured, she took a careful step forward, then another, yet she missed the moment of transportation once again. The clear image in front of her wavered like a mirage. In a blink, she found herself standing in front of the tree.
But just as quickly as she recovered from the sudden change in location, she gasped. The phantoms were still there, wrapped around the tree.
Yet one of them was no longer a phantom but a half-woman, half serpent, who stood guard in front of the tree.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Hypnos breathed. “I can see her.”
“Can you?”
“The serpent woman? Yes.”
The serpent woman noticed them, slithering over on the black sand. With pure gold scales and a deathly white human torso partly covered with black hair, her incandescent ruby lips seemed like a screaming slash across her face. Her eyes were milky and dead. “There she is,” she lilted. “The witch. You thought you burned me down?”
Calliste watched her.
“This is not her true form,” Hypnos murmured beside her. “But a reflection of who she used to be.”
The woman turned her milky eyes to him. “Oooh, you’re a handsome one.” She licked her lips and slithered closer. “Is this witch your wife? Not that it matters.”
Hypnos narrowed his eyes at her. “Do you know why you’re here?” His gaze flicked to the phantoms ravaging the tree.
Her lips stretched in a predatory smile.
“Do you remember anything from your life?” Hypnos continued.
She stared at him. Her eyes seemed carved in ivory. Her golden tail shone brighter, but the glint was cold.
Hypnos smiled at the woman. “Who do you serve, beautiful?”
The harsh glow of her tail dimmed, yet she glowered. “I serve no one.” And she glanced at the light glowing in the crown of the prince’s tree. “I’m here for the shiny thing. It will bring me peace.”
“Do you remember how you got here?” he continued in a gentle tone, stepping in front of Calliste and spreading his wings.
The woman’s tail swung quicker as she stared blankly at him.
Calliste stepped back, realizing that Hypnos was diverting the serpent’s attention. Even as a pale imitation, his azure-to-midnight wings captivated the Condemned.
“I only wish to help you.” Hypnos spoke in a low, calming voice. “Why do you want this shiny thing on the top of the tree?”
She stared at him with a blank expression on her face.
Calliste focused on tapping into the power of Epione, feeling it coming to her. She searched for a suitable weapon in her mind and remembered Philon and his unerring arrows.
She imagined a blazing emerald bow and watched it forming in front of her. She reached for it. It was a gamble, but if she could fashion a weapon, then she hoped Epione would aid her in using it.
Hypnos’ voice flowed like a lullaby.
A tingling sensation in her palm made Calliste open her eyes. The bow shone in her hand, glowing with healing energy.
“What is this witch doing?” the serpent woman screeched, catching on.
Hypnos folded his wings and stepped out of her path.
Calliste aimed and drew her hand back, imagining nocking the arrow. After a heart-stopping moment, a blazing, emerald arrow appeared, ready to be released.
The serpent woman lunged with a hiss. “Sneaky bitch!”
Calliste loosened her fingers.
The arrow whizzed by the serpent’s arm and hit the tree.
The phantoms screeched, abandoning the tree as it exploded in green sparks.
Briefly, the serpent woman swept around.
Calliste nocked another arrow and released it as soon as it appeared.
This time, it hit the target.
The serpent woman screeched, clawing at the arrow in her chest, then she lunged again.
Hypnos twisted around. “Run!”
Calliste listened, still clutching the bow in her hand. After a couple of steps, everything wavered, and she was transported back to the icy, starlit ground, far away from the tree. The sudden shift between planes left her dizzy. She swayed on her feet for a moment. Hypnos grasped her hand, keeping her steady.
Calliste’s eyes darted to the movement behind her.
The serpent woman emerged from the darkness behind her. She bent over, wheezing, the bright green arrow still buzzing with energy.
Now or never. Calliste nocked another arrow and sent it straight into her chest.
The Condemned shrilled another scream before collapsing to the ground, her golden tail writhing and dissolving into smoke, along with the rest of her monster-like appearance. It left behind a spectral form of a wide-eyed, young woman.
Calliste watched her, breathing hard, still clutching her bow.
“It’s fine,” Hypnos said. “She’s a Shade now.”
Blinking, the woman sat up, her eyes lighting up as Hypnos approached her.
Calliste edged closer, allowing her bow to dissolve.
“Your name,” Hypnos asked the shade. “Do you remember it?”
With trembling hands, she pushed back strands of hair. “Myrto. My name is Myrto… What is this place?”
“This is a part of the Underworld known as the Roots.” He paused before continuing, “Can you recall how you arrived here?”
“No.” Myrto still seemed dazed. “What will happen to me?”
Hypnos didn’t reply.
Myrto’s eyes stared at him. “They didn’t bury me.” Her voice trembled. “They left my body for the crows and gave me no coin to pay the Ferryman.”
A shadow passed over Hypnos’ face.
“Can I bring her a coin… tomorrow night?” Calliste asked quietly.
He stilled, unreadable like a statue, his voice hard. “You know the burial rites, Calliste. If her body wasn’t buried and no one saw to the coin…”
Myrto let out a cry.
Calliste glanced at her nearly depleted pendant. Something as small as a coin won’t require much energy? She pictured it in her palm.
It flashed in her hand, not silver but emerald green, like everything woven from Epione’s powers. For a moment, she wondered if it would disappear, like the bow, or her protective orb. But it didn’t. Is it because of my intention? She held it out to Myrto.
“Oh,” Myrto gasped, cradling it with utmost care.
Hypnos’ silvery gaze hit Calliste with such intensity that she faltered. “Will Charon accept it?”
His gaze flicked to her pendant. “The night is almost over. Let me take you back.”
“But—” She looked to Myrto, desperate to ask questions about the monster who had pulled her into the Roots to become a part of the curse.
“It’s getting late. I’ll take care of Myrto. You need to return, Calliste.”
“Thank you,” Myrto whispered. “Thank you.”
***
She couldn’t get used to the sensation of returning to her physical body. The sudden heaviness jarred, especially paired with the sharp awareness of being drained of energy, even if Hypnos handled her with utmost care.
“Same time, same place?” he asked, stepping back, his skin ablaze in the light of dawn.
She managed a feeble nod.
“You did well.” His words seemed distant. “Rest.”
“Hypnos?”
He stilled, his divine form somehow too large for his surroundings. “Yes?”
“Will you help Myrto cross Styx?”
He opened his wings, his silvery eyes set on her face. “I’ll do what needs to be done.”
She clung on to her consciousness. “This is not an answer,” she managed.
“It is.” With that, he faded into the shy morning sunlight.
***
Before long, she was vaguely aware of the dawn stealing in through the curtains and the strong hands carrying her back to her room, embraced by the scent of sea-breeze and spices.